Impossible
by Blondebunny55
Summary: DH movie spoilers. The night they danced, something changed. A flicker of the impossible sparked in their minds and wouldn't leave. AU, Chronicles the budding romance between Harry and Hermione through one-shots.
1. Possibilities

The possibility flashes past her eyes, burning bright in her mind. It sears at her heart and she recoils, for she knows it's ridiculous; will never, never happen. The always practical Hermione getting caught on a whimsy. Now that was something new.

But as he twirls her around, only his breath and his touch and the soft crooning coming from the radio, she can see it clearly. A life with just them, surrounded by forest. A world with no responsibility, no Ron to break her heart yet again, no nothing. Just Harry and Hermione.

He's only trying to comfort you, she reminds herself, but the laugh stills escapes, a smile still turns at the corners of her lips. He's only fighting for Ginny, only fighting to stop the fighting. So no one else will have to die. He's always been so selfless. Harry and his hero complex.

She's been fighting for Ron, if she really thought about it. She'd never realized it, but she was. But now, what was the point?

And how predictable, the friend falling for the boy-who-lived. Almost like a fairy tale, the kind Hermione refused to believe in when she was little. But Ron left. He had closed the door on her, but Harry was still there. It was easy, sagging into his form, letting go of everything, and just not _feeling _anymore.

But the song ended, and along with it, the vision of them. She turned away and left the tent. No one was allowed to witness the pitiful, ridiculous tears she shed over the unfeasibility.

* * *

Unchanging. That's all she wanted at the moment. In the familiar spot, by the river and the trees that were unaffected by years and time. They could be like that.

The impossibility beat at her again. But she can't help but cling to the thought.

She knew it wouldn't happen, even before he laughed incredulously, as if it's the most absurd notion in the world. And it probably was to Harry, the savior.

It ached, knowing it was right there, before them. So easy, so perfect but so impossible. So unrealistic. The song had ended. And it was time to remember reality.

**A/N: **_Er, yeah. I really don't know where this came from. I hope it makes sense… it was kind of supposed to be like as Hermione was thinking, so that's why it flits around a lot. Reviews anyone?_


	2. Graveyard

**A/N: **_A second update in one day! Woo! So this started out as a one-shot, but since a lot of people added this to story alert, I got the idea of making this into a set on one-shots chronicling Harry and Hermione's budding relationship as they destroy Horcruxes. Ron will still return though. Hopefully this doesn't turn out to be a dumb idea... Oh, and did you know that J.K. actually considered putting them together? Well, I guess in some sorts this is what would have happened. I don't own anything you recognize, and yes, a little is taken from the book, but I've modified it a bit. Please review_

The raised voices of the choir emanated from the little church, cloaked in the ghostly lighting from the moon. For Harry's sake, Hermione almost wished Lily and James Potter were in that church, singing of Christmas tide, just waiting for their only son to burst in and be reunited once again. But she knew better. Knew that they laid in the graveyard just beyond.

Under the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione sensed more than heard Harry's breath hitch as they walked through the Kissing Gate. Her hand squeezed his in what she hoped was comfort. He slipped away, though, a moment later, hurrying through the rows of headstones in search of the only two that mattered.

But something caught Hermione's eye, and she called to him, "Harry, look!"

He turned, eyes wide with vulnerable anxiousness. "Is it-?"

"No, but look!" He hurried to her side. At their feet was the final resting spot of Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore.

Hermione could tell that Harry was mildly interested, but all he really wanted was to find his parents. After seven years of friendship, Harry's moods were rather easy to discern. She let him go again without interrogation, although she was writhing with questions about Dumbledore's secretive past.

She knew when he had found them. He halted in his tracks and fell to his knees. A deep sense of pain cut at her heart. To never know your own parents…

She kneeled next to him, felt him shaking with tears he reluctantly let loose. As much as she felt like she was watching something very private between Harry and his parents, she couldn't will herself to move. Convinced herself that he needed her presence just as much as she needed his.

When at last they stood to go, Hermione was fighting against her own tears. Although she hadn't truly lost her parents, they were still out of her life, only memories until, in the chance she survived, she could go and retrieve them.

Harry's arm wound around her neck and hers around his waist. For now, him simply being there was enough, all silly fantasies aside. Right now, they needed only comfort and the solace that they were there for each other, fighting the same insurmountable battle.


	3. He Loved You

His anger curled around her, hissing in her ear what a hindering nag she was, that he didn't really need her. She was the reason his wand sat in two pieces in the pouch around his neck. Her fault the snake had attacked them, no matter how many times he said she was blameless. She had egged on his yearning, after all. With no library to rush off to, what use was she anymore?

It didn't matter that he pretended the source of his anger was solely directed at Dumbledore. Hermione liked to think she knew him better than that; could see past the façade.

He ranted about what a mess Dumbledore had left them in, and she let him. His temper would pass soon. It was just the horcrux slung around his neck speaking. She stared at the cup she nursed in her quivering hands.

"He loved you," She whispered, "I know he loved you."

"I don't know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn't love, the mess he's left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me."

Hermione wished she could reach out and tell him the offer she had given him in that night in the forest of Dean still stood. That surly, Dumbledore would have understood if they abandoned this hopeless battle, if only for a while. But Harry wouldn't. It was his destiny, he would say. And she would tell him to stop putting so much store by one silly prophecy. Divination had never been what Hermione deemed as a viable subject.

"Thanks for the tea. I'll finish the watch. You get back in the warm."

Hermione partially stood, wishing there was something she could say to make Harry feel some sort of reassurance. But she had caught the note of finality in his voice and left the conversation as it was, hanging in the frigid air, rearing its ugly head of reason in the their faces.

As she passed, her hand grazed the top of his head, for a moment entwining in the untidy mass of black. The night they danced rushed back to her again. The chance for them to become something more flickered in front of her, taunting her, for it was always out of her reach. She saw his eyes close gently. Perhaps, he had felt something pass between them too. The possibility that was impossible.

**A/N: **_I don't own. Reviews?_


	4. Sorry's Not Enough

She was dreaming. Yes, that was the most rational way to explain why Ron was suddenly standing in front of her, dripping wet with the sword of Gryffindor in hand. At one time, before Hermione had had enough of Ron ruining every chance for them, the sight would have made her melt. As if he was a hero that had walked straight off the pages of the book _Beedle the Bard, _just for her. Now, it was only anger that bubbled inside her, like a full cauldron over a fire.

Without really taking time to consider what she was doing, she rushed forward and began hitting every bit of Ron she could reach. Stupid git for breaking her heart over and over.

"Ouch- ow- gerroff! What the-? Hermione- OW!" Ron seemed to shrink into himself, stumbling backwards.

"You- complete- _arse_- Ronald- Weasley!"

With every word, Ron received another well-deserved smack.

"You- crawl- back- here- after- weeks- and- weeks- oh, _where's my wand_?"

If Hermione was perfectly honest with herself, she would have realized that her fury was really disappointment- Ron would sweep her off her feet yet again and that little possibility of Hermione and Harry would never, never happen. Not with Ron there to ruin it. Hermione, however, didn't want to assess her real emotions, all she wanted at the moment was to make Ron feel just a little of all the pain he had caused her.

"_Protego!_"

Hermione fell backwards, silently cursing Harry for putting the shield between her and Ron. Now, if only she could get her wand, and throw a few hexes, then she might feel a bit better…

"Hermione! Calm-"

Hermione cut Harry off instantly. "I will not calm down! Give me back my wand. _Give it back to me!_"

"Hermione, will you please-"

"Don't tell me what to do, Harry Potter! Don't you dare! Give it back now! And YOU!"

Hermione whirled around, narrowing her eyes at Ron with what she hoped was an intimidating glare.

"I came running after you! I called you! I begged you to come back!"

"I know," Ron muttered, raising his hands in surrender, "Hermione, I'm sorry, I'm really-"

"Oh, you're _sorry_!"

It was always sorry. Always apologies for breaking her and expecting two little words to magically put her back together again. But what Ron hadn't seemed to grasp yet, was that there were some things that magic could never fix.

And he went on to explain himself, as if it could all be better once she understood how very much _he _had suffered. How terrible _he _had been doing on their hunt for horcruxes. How very sorry _he _was to have left. But wasn't enough; it could never be enough. Now anymore, at least.

And as Hermione fell asleep that night, she vowed to understand her relationship with Harry better. There was promise there, a promise she wanted to explore, now that Ron had blown it once and for all.

**A/N: **_Happy Thanksgiving! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. And to everyone who added this to fav/story alert, thank you, but could you also review sometime? I love hearing people's opinions and any constructive crit. helps me get better! _


	5. Two Paths

It was too late, and they knew it, when the Sneakoscope sprang to life. A gruff voice yelled from outside, telling them to come out. No amount of cunning could save them now.

Hermione swooped down upon Harry. "Harry- hold still!" He struggled against her, his wand at the ready to go and duel the Snatchers outside.

"Hermione, move, I have-"

"Just stop a moment- please, trust me."

He stopped and looked her expectantly in the eye.

Their eyes locked and suddenly Hermione found herself leaning in. Harry didn't pull away as their lips met, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised he returned the short kiss with fervor. It was an impulsive kiss, born off the waves of terror as the Snatchers invaded the tent, but it somehow felt very special- a special secret just for Harry and Hermione to know.

"I'm really sorry for this." She murmured in his ear after they broke apart. She pointed her wand and his face and feverishly thought the spell before the Snatchers got to them and realized who Harry was. With a _bang_, his features became distorted, swelling and stretching until he was barely recognizable.

Strong arms grabbed hold of Hermione, but she didn't fight back. They searched her, pulling her wand away roughly. It would be okay, so long as her spell worked. Harry was the one they really wanted, after all. This way, they appeared simply as run-aways with questionable blood statuses.

She caught Harry's gaze as they were pulled out of the tent and bound with the rest of the prisoners. Though his eyes were now hooded and drooping, she could still see what he was trying to express: Ron could not know. Or perhaps Harry was simply trying to show he was as baffled by her action as she was herself.

Judging from the fact Ron was wholly concentrating on his bleeding nose, he had seen nothing he shouldn't have. Which was all for the best, Hermione reasoned.

Vaguely, Hermione realized that the Snatchers were trying to decide what to do with them, but she couldn't focus on their words. In her mind, she was replaying the kiss over and over. She had kissed Victor at the Yule Ball, but this had been on a completely different level. So many feelings and thoughts had been packed into that space of only a few seconds, and yet it had felt as easy as breathing.

There was no going back. Only two paths laid in front of Hermione and Harry now. If they made it out alive from this, they would have to choose one. One way led to the same ruined chances and broken hearts Ron had ended up. The other was much more promising, though it would require Harry and Hermione to admit to their relationship. And Hermione knew exactly which one she wanted.

**A/N: **_Review. Constructive Criticism very much appreciated!_


	6. See What I See

In the weeks following the Snatchers, neither Harry or Hermione could find it within themselves to be the first to bring up the kiss. Perhaps it was meant to stay a secret, something to stay in their memories and never be talked about again.

Harry sat on the cliffs overlooking the sea, exactly where Hermione expected to find him. She sat gingerly down next to him, just waiting for him to tell her to leave. But he didn't.

It's beautiful here." She murmured after a long stretch of silence.

Harry, however, seemed not in the mood for small talk. "I can't believe I let him get the Elder Wand."

So he was still thinking about that.

"It's for the best, Harry." Hermione glanced at him, gauging his reaction. His face was an impassive stone. "I'm sure that Dumbledore meant for you to keep searching for the horcruxes. It's what he told you to do before he died, and I don't think he would have if he wanted you to do something else."

"What if I misunderstood, Hermione?" His voice cracked under the emotion, and he cleared his throat, starting again. "What if I didn't get what he was really trying to have me do? It- it just doesn't feel right- like I should have done it differently."

"You couldn't have done it different." Hermione spoke low, as if she was afraid that if she talked any louder she would spook him. She shifted her body so she could look at him better. "You and V- Voldemort are completely different. You wouldn't have had the heart to do what he did to get the Elder Wand-"

"So I'm weak, is that it?"

"No, no, not at all. You have a heart, Harry. And in the end, that's all that's really going to matter." Her hand came to rest on top of his.

Harry gave a weak laugh.

"I'm not the only bloody person with a heart. Why can't someone just take my place?"

When Hermione didn't respond, he spoke again.

"How are you doing? After Malfoy Manor? We haven't had time to just talk like this in a while."

"I'm fine." She subconsciously began fingering the scar on her arm, where Bellatrix had carved the word 'Mudblood' into it.

"You were really brave, you know that?"

Hermione blushed and ducked her head.

"No, I wasn't."

"Hey, look at me." Harry gently lifted her face with his hand under her chin. "You've done brilliantly, this entire time we've been looking for the horcruxes. If it weren't for you, we would have never gotten as far as we did."

"Oh, that's ridiculous. All I did was make guesses, just like you."

"We never would have found out about the Hallows without you."

Harry's stare was intense, thoughtful. Hermione found herself squirming under his gaze.

"Dumbledore helped with that, as well."

"Don't doubt yourself so much. If you could see what I see…"

"What do you see?"

Harry's eyes bored into hers and she couldn't move, couldn't think. All she wanted was to stay under that gaze….

"Oy! What are you two doing?"

The spell broke. Hermione instantly moved away from Harry, finally realizing just how very close her face had been to his. Ron stood above them, staring suspiciously. She couldn't help but silently curse Ron for ruining the moment, and now she wouldn't find out what Harry saw in her….

"We were- er, talking." Harry swallowed loudly, trying to appear innocent. Ron didn't seem to be buying it, though.

"Yeah, just talking." He grumbled under his breath. "I came here to tell you two that Fleur says dinners ready, but by all means, carry on with this little moment of yours."

"Ron, please don't be like that-"

"What Hermione? What am I being like?"

"Nothing, l- let's just go have dinner."

The last thing she wanted was to fight. She was still clinging desperately to the happiness that had blossomed inside her when she had been alone with Harry.

Dinner was quite the awkward affair, what with Ron shooting venomous glares at Harry and Hermione throughout the whole thing, Harry pretending as if he was oblivious, and Hermione wishing she would just turn invisible. Everyone else at the table was curious as to why they were acting strange, but the only person who dared question it was Luna.

Their feelings had only just become more evident, and already it was causing a rift between the three friends. Hermione began to wonder if it was even possible that it would work out alright. But for now, all she could do was hope.

**A/N: **_Review, and big thanks to everyone who already has and to all those who added this to favorites/story alert. And just so you know, once school starts up again, I don't know if I'll be able to update on a daily basis, but we will see. _


	7. Leaving the Broken

Hermione crept down the hallway, grimacing every time her steps made a soft noise on the carpet.

"-Have you even _thought _about Ginny?" Ron roared from within the room Harry and Ron were sharing for their short stay at Shell Cottage. "You know, the girl that's my sister- the one who's heart you broke when you broke it off with her?"

Hermione leaned against the wall next to the door, listening intently to the heated conversation.

"Of course I've thought for her! I thought about her every bloody day!" Harry bellowed back. Hermione winced. How the whole household hadn't heard the two boys yet was beyond her.

"Well that doesn't seem to have stopped you from getting a little too cozy with Hermione!"

Something heavy suddenly crashed to the floor, though Hermione didn't dare peer into the room to see what, for fear of being seen.

"'Getting cozy-?'"

"-Yes _cozy_, you don't think I see you two whispering together all the time, looking at each other like you're sharing some sort of secret?"

Hermione pressed her lips together. Had they really been that obvious?

"You're mental."

"Don't deny it! You- You know I fancy her, Harry!"

There it was. The words slunk around Hermione's neck, tightening, tightening, until she couldn't breath.

"And Ginny fancies you! If you aren't going to consider what I think, at least respect Ginny enough-"

"Don't you dare say I don't respect her- you know bloody well why we couldn't work out."

Harry's voice had lowered, become deadly. Ron had struck a nerve.

"Oh, so you go after Hermione because she's convenient? I see. Then go on, have her. I'm sorry for coming back and ruining everything for you."

Ron's footsteps came closer, and Hermione flattened herself against the wall, hoping that he wouldn't notice her. He appeared in the doorway, chest heaving and eyes wild. As he stormed by, his eye caught her slight movement and he whirled around. His face morphed through several emotions at once. At first, he seemed almost embarrassed at seeing her there, then worried when he spotted the silent tears snaking their way down her face, and settling in an angry mask.

"You heard everything." He accused quietly.

She nodded mutely, a sob ripping from her lips.

"And you don't deny anything." Again, his voice was not questioning. They both knew the answer before she even opened her mouth.

"You _left_, Ron." She cried. That was really all there was to say. It explained everything. But Ron didn't want to believe it.

"I came back." He said in barely more than a whisper.

"I'm sorry." She breathed back. "I can't do it anymore. I loved you. But you ruined it."

Ron blinked several times, stumbling back as if he had been slugged.

"Hermione-"

She was no longer listening; couldn't stand another minute glimpsing his tortured stare. She tore off down the hall, letting in to the barrage of hurt. She left him standing there, broken. Just like how he had left her.

**A/N:**_ Big thank you to everyone who hasread/reviewed/favorited/story alerted. You guys are amazing. :) And as always, review!_


	8. Beginnings and Endings

_"This road is anything but simple, twisted like a riddle I've seen high and I've seen low. So loud, the voices of all my doubts. Even so, I had to believe, impossible means nothing to me."_

_-Kate Voegele, Lift Me Up_

Ron stayed distant over the next few days. Though he seemed to have no intention of leaving again, he rarely went a moment when they were all together without thrusting his disapproval in their faces. Hermione shouldered through the sarcastic replies and disdainful glares, knowing it had to end sometime, even though he had refused to talk to her all day so far. His silence was deafening.

She sat on the shoreline, letting the water rush over her bare feet, face turned up towards the weak sunlight. She knew it was useless, crying, yet the tears would not stop. Her younger self would have scoffed at how very much she seemed to cry now, saying it would be much more useful to go read a book dealing with whatever was bothering her. But she doubted there was a book detailing her current situation.

There came a noise from behind her and one hand plunged into her pocket, intending on getting her wand and hexing whoever dared disturb her.

"Er- If this is a bad time…" Harry backed away with his hands in the air, eyes trained warily on her wand.

She let out a soft laugh and lowered her wand.

"Sorry. I was expecting someone else…"

He nodded. It was just like when Ron had left, with them unwilling to even utter his name.

Harry sat down next to her, putting one arm around her and pulling her close. For a while they didn't speak.

"How do you do it?" She asked, penetrating the soft quiet that had surrounded them, like a blanket, warm and close.

"Do what?" His head lifted from where it rested atop hers so he could look at her.

"Seem so happy when everything feels like it's falling apart?"

He didn't answer immediately, his eyes scouring the waves as if the right words would appear out of them.

"Because it'll end soon, either way."

She wasn't sure whether he was talking about Ron or the hunt for Horcruxes, but didn't question it. She supposed the answer fit both.

"This is my fault. Ron would be talking to us and things would be going smoother if it weren't for me." Hermione grimaced, realizing finally that the thought was what was plaguing her the most in the shadows of her mind.

"Don't go blaming yourself, Hermione-"

"Oh, Harry, admit it. You know it's because of me."

The warmth of his arm suddenly left as he pulled back to give her a stern look.

"I'm just as much at fault."

Hermione's mind flicked back to the first time she had met Harry, scrawny with glasses broken down the middle, looking thoroughly out of place. Although he looked nothing like that now, he had hardly changed inside. Still pure. Still completely, frustratingly selfless. And maybe that was why she needed him so much, like she drew strength from him whenever she was near. But she doubted that was the whole of it.

"Maybe this is a bad idea, think of Ginny- and Ron. Maybe we should just- just-" What they should do, was beyond her. All she knew was that she needed to do what was right, before she got to far attached to stop this dangerous path.

"Have you thought of yourself? Maybe we should start there."

His words staggered her. Think of herself? What did she want? Well, that was plain as day. She wanted- needed- Harry.

"But-"

"Hermione, you know how you asked what I saw in you?"

She nodded mutely.

"I see my best friend. I see the girl that's been by my side every time I need her, the one I can count on when I need to know something-" He smiled impishly, "-And now, I think I'm starting to see something more. Don't make me throw away this new image."

Her thoughts whirled and dived incoherently around in her head. She didn't know what to feel, what to think. But Harry decided for her.

His lips were soft on hers, without the desperate forcefulness that had been their first kiss. One hand found its way to her back, pulling her closer, while the other still cupped her chin gently. It didn't take long before she responded, kissing him back with the emotions that had been running amok within her ever since that night of the dance. The first kiss may have felt like a forbidden secret for only them to know, but this was something even better. It was the kiss signaling a beginning, and in some ways an end. The ending of pain and loneliness. And the beginning of the possibility that was no longer impossible.

**A/N: **_I'm well aware they sound kind of out-of-character in this one. Sorry, but I simply couldn't get it right. And sorry for no updating for a few days, but school comes first. I don't own the song. Review! Thanks!_


	9. Where We Belong

_'Cause she'll never be you_

_No she'll never be you_

_That's why the love it just wont be true_

_'Cause that's not where I belong_

_My heart knows where I belong_

_With you is where I belong_

_-Snob Scrilla, The Song With No Title_

As the Room of Requirement grew to accommodate all the people pouring in from Aberforth's pub, Harry could not help the grimace that splayed across his face. He should be looking for the horcrux, there shouldn't be this amount of people coming to help fight the war that had always been his. It felt wrong to be standing here, doing nothing, as his body tensed with the need to move, like a coil ready to spring.

And in the heat of the moment, he could not help the disjointed thoughts that flitted through his mind; the comparisons that screamed to be heard. How very blatantly obvious it seemed now. Ginny could never love him in the tender, knowing way Hermione did. Didn't know everything that had happened in his nightmares without needing to be told like Hermione. The way Ginny stood in an opposite corner, her fiery temper flaring every time her mother reminded her she would not be fighting, the sideways glances at Harry, with a questioning gaze; it had no effect. Harry was not captivated by the way her eyes assessed him, did not feel the urge to kiss her hello. Her stubborn fierceness seemed suddenly very childish. Instead, he felt drawn to the brown haired beauty at his side. The poised way she held back her emotions, although he could easily detect the worry that creased her eyebrows, that pushed out her lips in what most others would assume was concentration. Her face was an open book that he wanted to read forever. Hermione and Harry. He loved the way it sounded on his tongue, and in his thoughts.

Harry tried- rather unsuccessfully- to gather his thoughts and concentrate on making it known to everyone in the room that his mission was only for him and Ron and Hermione. It was no use, with the pain of his scar, the soft murmur of conversation that felt like screaming in his ear, the urgency to _move_. They would not listen to him, but it was Hermione that rushed to his aid, like she had known what he was feeling.

"Look, we can't tell you what we're doing exactly, but you can help us find something. It's Ravenclaw's. Does anyone know what it might be?"

"The lost diadem." Someone piped up from the sea of people.

"Lost?" Harry resisted the urge to grip his head as a wave of pain fell over him. He had to force himself to stay in the present as someone elaborated. Hermione gave his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance, seeing his face.

"It was lost ages ago, no one's seen it for generations, I've heard."

Ron asked what a diadem was and it was explained that it was a crown. It was a blur to Harry, who was struggling under the growing pressure in his scar, as it was decided Luna would lead him to the Ravenclaw common room. They were losing time, and for the first time, panic began to slither up his spine.

* * *

"Ron, we have to do something." Hermione hissed in the red-headed boy's ear as Harry disappeared out the door.

"Oh, you're asking for my help?" His voice was sarcastic, cold. Hermione practically growled.

"This isn't the time, Ron. We have to help Harry while he's off looking at the statue. Do you remember how he fought that basilisk in second year?"

Ron nodded, unsure where she was going with her talk. She grabbed his sleeve and discreetly lead them out of the crowded room. She set off at a brisk gait down the echoing stone corridor, Ron trotting after her.

"Of course I remember, but how the bloody hell is that going to help us right now-?" A look of comprehension stole over his countenance. "Basilisk venom." He breathed.

"Exactly. We have to get inside the chamber somehow- oh, _why _can't either of us speak Parseltongue! That would be so useful…" Hermione trailed off, lost in thought.

Once they were inside the girl's bathroom, Ron tried his hand at his interpretation of snake talk. The sinks stayed firmly immobile.

"This is hopeless." Hermione sighed, feeling like there was a weight pressing in on either side of her heart. All she could think of was Harry, what he was doing, if he was still okay.

Ron hissed again, this time sounding strange. The sinks sprang to life and Hermione could have kissed Ron, had it not been for the fact that he was an arse and she loved Harry far too much.

As Hermione and Ron pulled free the fangs from the oversized snake carcass, Hermione could not help but wonder how things would have been if Ron had never left. Surely, they could have had a chance? But she doubted it. They were meant to bicker, and that was it. Ron wasn't Harry. And it was as simple as that.

**A/N: **_Hello again! Thanks for all the reviews guys! I love you all (: You should go listen to the song at the top, it's one of my favorites (and it's literally called the song with no title, haha.) I think it kind of fit this chapter well. There will be another one or two of the battle of Hogwarts. Review and have a good day!_


	10. Time Again To Remember Reality

Perhaps it was the continuous rocking beneath their feet, the color show of spells that assaulted their eyes as they ran, their load of fangs pressed close to their heaving chests, that suddenly knocked the sense into them. Their nearsightedness had vanished, and the vast image of it all made their little spat seem incredibly minuscule- a grain of dust upon the cloak of fear and anger that laid across the castle. It became very obvious to Ron and Hermione that petty quarrels over who liked who should be left for times when people around them were not fighting to the death. So as they ran through the quaking corridors, in search of Harry, they came to an unspoken agreement that only best friends can come to. Matters of the heart laid forgotten in the shadows of their minds, and for now, they were simply Ron and Hermione, looking for their other best friend Harry.

The soft tinkle of the broken Hufflepuff cup coming from where Ron's jacket was the happy reminder that they were another Horcrux down, thanks to Hermione. Unlike the other Horcurxes, it hadn't put up much of a fight. It had emitted a strange scream that made the two feel like their bones were grinding together, and their brains imploding, but it had ended soon enough once Hermione had stabbed it.

"Warn me next time, won't you?" Ron puffed from next to Hermione.

She almost tripped over her own feet when she jerked her head to look at him.

"Warn you about _what_?"

"When you're about to make me do something I can't. Trying to speak Parseltongue made my throat feel all scratchy."

"Honestly, Ron." She muttered, but she smiled as she did. She knew that was his feeble way of showing he was willingly talking to her again.

Harry came into view a few moments later, and when he spotted their grins, he somehow knew, through all the chaos, they would be alright.

* * *

Hermione turned and watched as Harry walked away, the vial of Snape's memories still clutched tight in his hand. She yearned to follow, to leave the dead and the grieving behind her, but she felt that he wouldn't want it. Those memories were meant of him, and him alone.

And so she made her way to Ginny and held her close, although guilt ripped viciously at her. Ginny didn't push her away, meaning she didn't know about Harry and Hermione yet. And somehow, that made Hermione feel even worse.

"He's g- g- gone." Ginny wailed into Hermione's shoulder. Tears pricked at her eyes as she patted Ginny's back. She couldn't help but imagine this would be Ginny's same reaction when she found out about her and Harry.

"He's in a better place." She whispered through the lump in her throat.

Ginny's sobs rendered her silent, until finally she broke away so she could go and cling to her mother. Hermione stood there, feeling quite out of place. This wasn't her family, not her pain to feel. And so she, like Harry, turned her back on the dead and the mourners, going anyplace that wasn't there.

Her feet lead her up a staircase, though her mind had no idea where exactly they were taking her. The faces of Tonks, Remus, Fred, burned bright behind her eyelids. None of them were particularly close with her, but their deaths still sent a hundred knives driving into her heart, squeezing the breath she was fortunate enough to still be breathing out of her lungs. She dared not think of the scattered bodies that laid at this very moment across the grounds of Hogwarts, whose faces and names would be remembered with reverence, whose eyes would never open again.

When she stopped abruptly in front of the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, she was torn from her thoughts. Subconsciously, she must have known this was where Harry had been headed. She didn't enter though, instead she slumped against the wall next to the entrance, feeling her weary head fall into her hands.

It might have been minutes, or hours, or maybe even years later when Harry appeared. He didn't notice her as he went on his way, down the corridor, looking oddly determined. He breathed in a strangely calm and steady manner, his head held high and his eyes void of emotion. The sight terrified Hermione.

When she was sure he wouldn't see or hear her, she stood up, intending on following him. She wouldn't allow him to do what he was undoubtedly going to do. But she didn't see him as she rounded the corner, and he wasn't descending the stairs, nor was he farther down the hall. Panic set in as she fled down the marble staircase, taking three of the steps at a time, not caring if she fell. Her heart was a wild animal, pounding to be let out, and she could even feel its erratic thump in her fingertips. Looking around wildly, like he might be hiding next to a tapestry, Hermione sped along- then suddenly, a thought struck her. Of course, he must be under the Invisibility Cloak.

The thought was no comfort at all. Instead, it made whatever hope that had burgeoned in her chest flee like a rabbit. It didn't hurt when she fell to the ground, in fact, her body remained quite ignorant of the fact she stood on hands and knees in the grass, just outside the front doors of the castle. The slight breeze didn't coax her skin into feeling- every bit of her stayed completely numb, her mind included. Someone might have been screaming her name, though it could also have been the blood rushing in her ears. The only thing that really seemed to register was that Harry was going to die. He was walking straight into the snake's nest and he would never come out.

How very foolish of her, to finally believe that she could have something as impossible as Harry. What an imbecile she had been to ignore the fact that this had been bound to happen. She should have listened to her instinct that night when she danced with him. Should have remembered how the possibility turned to darkness once the moment was over. The song had ended, and it was time again to remember reality.

**A/N: **_Hi! Thanks for all the reviews! It makes my day (: Any constructive criticism is welcome, along with if you see some mistakes, but don't forget about the chapter itself! Anyways, have a good day. _


	11. Nothing Left

**A/N: **_Hey! This one starts off right where the last one left off, and the second half is when Harry is presented to the crowd to prove he's dead (even though he isn't!). I skimmed over some parts in this one and the next because I really didn't want to have to rewrite like the whole last part of the book. Hopefully you liked this and didn't get confused about what's happening! The next one will be of the battle. I hope to keep this story going, showing everyone's lives after the battle and everything, if you guys say you would like to see it. Don't forget to review (: _

_Don't wanna stay here_

_I can't get away_

_There's nothing left_

_No more words to say _

_No matter what I'll never let you go_

_No matter what I'll never let you go_

_-One Night Only, Nothing Left_

Distantly, Hermione noted that she was suddenly warm, like a pair of arms had wrapped around her. She was on her feet, being pulled back into the castle and yet she really had no idea what was going on. All she wished was that she could console whoever was crying so loudly in her ear. Reality pressed in on all sides of her, but she refused to acknowledge it. It was much better in this numb unknowing state, away from the pain that lingered just outside the haze.

"Hermione- blimey, get a hold on yourself- what's wrong?"

The words pierced the bubble of fogginess that clouded her mind, and her surroundings came into painful focus. She realized she was the one sobbing, that Ron was supporting her, asking her what was going on.

"H- Har- Harry!" Was all she could get out. Through the swimming unshed tears in her eyes, she thought she saw Ron's face contort, like what she had said had hurt him. But that was ridiculous. Ron was supposed to understand that Harry dying was very, very bad, no matter if she loved him more than a brother or not.

"He knows what he's doing, just, just let him do whatever it is and we'll wait here for him, okay?" Ron was obviously trying hard to reassure her, though he seemed unsure of his own words.

She nodded mutely, wiping furiously at her eyes. She would find a way to distract herself until Harry came back- alive and in one piece. Yes, that's what she would do.

"We- w- should- do something." Hermione stumbled away from Ron, and nearly collapsed back to the ground.

"Why don't we just sit down for a while." Ron carefully guided her over to the wall, where they both sat down against it. Ron put his arm around her and let Hermione cry herself out in his shoulder.

"I'm here. I'll always be here." He murmured. His voice was strained and uncomfortable, as if he wished that wasn't the case. Hermione, however, was wrapped up in her own horrible thoughts, unable to ponder on why he sounded so strangely disconsolate.

His words were comfort either way, and simply the fact there was something still real and physical to hold on to was enough for her. She almost found herself liking this limbo-like state, where Harry still could make it out alive. There was still a shred of hope, and she clung to it like it was the only thing keeping her breathing. And in fact, it probably was.

* * *

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

That was all Hermione had to hear. And just like that, her lovely limbo world vanished. Before she knew what she was doing, she was running, Ron swearing loudly behind her.

"-Lying bastard! Harry would never fucking run- Merlin-" He seemed to stop short when it settled in that Harry was dead, really and truly. The enormity of pain hit them both like a brick wall.

Hermione pushed ruthlessly through the crowd congregating outside. Her mind was oddly quiet- something that never occurred.

There was Ginny, her face blotchier than before, craning her neck to see the group clad in black walking towards them. Neville stood straight and tall near Ginny, a steely look in his eyes. Faces of the brave and the weary- Hermione felt she had no place here with them. She felt none of her Gryffindor bravery now, only pain, hard and close and suffocating.

The band of black grew to become individual people, broken only by the broad form of Hagrid, who towered over the rest. Something was in his arms, but Hermione couldn't tell what. The suspense rattled her body, until she was trembling. Where was Harry?

And then she realized what- or rather- who, Hagrid was carrying.

"HARRY!" The cry was ripped from her throat before her mind had completely worked it out. Mildly, she was surprised by how very heart-wrenching she sounded. Other voices joined hers in what was almost a lamenting harmony.

Perhaps she had tried to run forward, because a second later, Ron had his hand on her shoulder, like he was trying to stop her. Hermione let him have his way. What did it matter? He was dead. Harry James Potter, the boy with his father's hair and his mother's eyes was dead.


	12. Breathing

**A/N: **_Hello. Sorry it's been a while, I've been working on my Draco/Astoria story. If any of you are fans of them, then go read it, I'll begin posting it once I finish up this story. Sorry, I'm done advertising my other stories now. :p So this starts right after Voldie is dead, because I really hate having to rewrite the stuff in the book to fit Hermione's p.o.v. Instead, I made this scene up. I had writer's block with this one so I'm sorry if it's blah. And don't worry, this isn't the end. Haha, Please Review! Thanks._

_The storm is coming but I don't mind._

_People are dying, I close my blinds._

_All that I know is I'm breathing now._

_I want to change the world...instead I sleep._

_I want to believe in more than you and me. But all that I know is I'm breathing._

_All I can do is keep breathing._

_All we can do is keep breathing now._

_-Ingrid Michaelson Keep Breathing_

The sounds of the rejoicing rose in the early dawn air, a mixture of relief, of pain, of victory. But there was only one noise that mattered now. A noise Hermione had been positive only a few minutes ago she would never hear again.

Harry breathing.

She shoved her way through the crowd, her eyes trained on his face. His weariness was evident every time he conjured up another weak smile, but he seemed to brighten tenfold when he spotted Hermione running towards him.

Once her arms had wound around him, she felt for the first time since he had walked into the forest that she was alive again. Like she had only been a wisp of herself until this moment.

"You're alive." She pulled back to look at him, to take in every detail. He looked a bit sheepish.

"I am." He agreed.

And then it rushed back to her: the horror of thinking she had lost him.

"Harry James Potter, I thought you died!" Hermione didn't sound nearly as exasperated as she felt. But perhaps that was a good thing. There would be plenty of time to be furious with him later.

"I know; I'm sorry. You have every right in the world to be angry. Just- just don't hate me."

"Hate you?" An almost hysterical laugh escaped through her lips. The idea of hating him was a completely foreign concept. "I could never hate you. Hex you into the next century, well, that I can do."

He seemed relieved by her answer.

Her lips crushed against his, against his cheeks, his forehead. Anything she could reach.

"Oy! Break it up you two! There's children present, you know."

Hermione glanced up, into Ron's grinning face. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him over, including him in her and Harry's hug.

"Er- I wasn't asking to join…" Ron muttered, trying to squirm away. "I have things I need to do."

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I- I promised Lavender after Greyback attacked her that I would go check on her."

"Well, go on then, Ron!" Harry clapped him on the back with an encouraging smile. He turned back to Hermione. "We should get out of here." He gestured vaguely at the swarm of people around them.

She nodded, and let him guide her out of the chaos.

"What do you think Ron's doing by 'checking on' Lavender?" Hermione asked once they had entered the comfort of the empty Hogwarts' corridors.

"I reckon Ron is planning on not being so lonely soon." An amused smirk poised itself upon Harry's lips.

"But- _Lavender_?" Hermione couldn't help but wrinkle her nose, remembering her sixth year when Ron and Lavender had been together.

Harry shrugged. "If it makes him happy…"

And that was all Hermione wanted, right? They could all begin to pick up the pieces of their lives, and maybe now Ron could do that with someone by his side.

"You!" A shrill voice cut through the soft quiet that had settled over the couple. They turned at the same time to see Ginny glaring between them, her finger pointed accusingly.

"You died- and now you're alive- and with Hermione?" Ginny seemed to be telling herself that more than to Harry.

"Ginny-" Harry stepped forward, palms raised.

"You kissed me before you left!" Ginny shrieked. "You said you wouldn't find anyone while you were gone!"

Hermione seriously contemplated slinking away before Ginny rounded on her, but knew she wouldn't. She needed to stay and make sure that Ginny didn't kill Harry once and for all.

"I didn't find anyone, she was sort of just there all along." Harry's tone sounded as if he had had no choice in the matter- like everything had simply happened.

"That doesn't change a damn thing! I can't believe you!" Ginny turned on her heel and ran before another word could be put in.

Harry's head fell into his hands. "Will life _ever _be simple?" He grumbled.

Hermione cracked a smile, although she felt awful inside.

"Come on. I think we could both use some sleep right about now…"


	13. World Stopped Spinning

Australia, Hermione decided, really was a beautiful place. Were it not for the mission at hand, she certainly would have been content simply lazing the days away on the arid land, and relishing in the diverse atmosphere - with Harry at her side, of course. But alas, she wasn't allowed the luxury to relax yet. There was just one last bit of business to attend to before she could finally, truly live in the post-war world: finding her parents and bringing them back home, memories intact.

The arrangement for Harry to accompany her was made without much thought or fuss. One day she had simply brought up the matter, and Harry had automatically volunteered to come along. And now, as they stood on the doorstep of Hermione's parents' new house, she was finding that Harry's presence was the only thing keeping her from drowning in her qualms.

"Are you ready?" Harry murmured. His hand, rough and calloused in hers, gave a reassuring squeeze. She nodded, trying to swallow around the sudden dryness in her mouth.

Hermione's hand lifted, and she gave the door a few sharp raps.

_I can do this_, she chanted in her head as footsteps approached on the other side. Really, she was being ridiculous. She was fully justified and her parents would understand; her happily oblivious Muggle parents, who could scarcely imagine how very powerful Voldemort had been growing before their memories were swiped. Yes, they had always trusted her judgment when it came to things they didn't know about in the Wizarding world, and that's all there was to it.

The door opened, revealing a slight brunette woman.

"Hello, er - Mrs. Wilkins. I hope this isn't a bad time," Hermione gulped. It tore at her heart to see her mother stare at her without a trace of recognition. "we were wondering if we could speak to you -" Hermione's voice dwindled out. The speech she had prepared suddenly flew out of her mind.

Harry jumped in quickly, his shoulder brushing hers softly, as if he was telling her it was alright. "We wanted to speak to you and your husband. It will only take a moment."

Mrs. Wilkins eyed them warily. "We aren't interested in whatever you're selling, I'm sorry." She began closing the door, but Hermione was faster.

"Please - we aren't here to sell you anything. It's urgent business."

After a moment of deliberating, Mrs. Wilkins stepped out of the way, allowing them entrance.

"I'll go get Wendell…" Her mother turned and hurried off down the hall leading from the front room.

Harry's hand slipped away from hers, moving to wind around her waist. "It'll be alright soon."

Hermione let herself sag into his firm side.

Her mother returned a moment later, her father in tow.

"Why don't we all sit down?" Mrs. Wilkins suggested graciously, forever a kind host.

Hermione sat in one of the chairs that had come from her old home. The soft worn leather felt good under her fingertips. She let her eyes wander, a strange feeling tugging at her stomach. The flowery wallpaper was unfamiliar, recent pictures that had been taken after she had left adorned the top of a fireplace. A large grandfather clock sat in an opposite corner - one she had never seen before.

"These two - I'm sorry, I never got your names -"

"I'm Harry and she's Hermione."

"Ah, yes, Harry and Hermione here said they had some urgent information to discuss with the both of us." Mrs. Wilkins informed Mr. Wilkins. They both faced the young couple expectantly.

Hermione stood, pulling her wand slowly from her pocket. "P - Please don't be alarmed."

Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins stared with strange expressions at the piece of wood trained in their direction.

Hermione murmured the spell to restore their memories before they could ask questions. At first, their eyes stayed unfocused, void of all emotions. They then blinked several times, catching sight of their once again remembered daughter, and both adopted frowns.

"Her - Hermione, dear, what are we doing here?" Mrs. Once-again-Granger asked, staring wide-eyed around her.

"I have an awful headache." Mr. Granger muttered, clutching at his head.

Hermione rushed forward, embracing both her parents.

"W - what's this? Honey, are you crying?"

Hermione ducked her head as she released them. "Of course not." She murmured, wiping away the traitorous tear when no one was looking.

At last, everything would be okay. Her parents did not need to know she was crying at the thought that she had actually lived up to the point to come and retrieve them - something she had been sure would not happen. But there she was - Harry alive as well at her side - and at last, after the whirlwind year of horcrux hunting, she felt like the world had finally stopped spinning.

**A/N: **_Hi! Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? I really wanted to get another chapter up because I really haven't given up on this. Life and my other story have been taking up a lot of my time, I'm afraid. But anyways, hope this chapter wasn't too horrible. I'm not very happy with it but this story does seem to give me a bit of trouble, haha. Review?_


	14. Future Unfolding

It was a hot day - as if the sun was shining with all its brilliance before fall encircled the land once again with brown, decaying hands. A wind stirred the grass, swirling up the warm scent of flowers.

Hermione sat, knees pulled up to her chest, on the porch step leading to her parents' home. Her eyes were closed, a slight furrow between her brows marring the serene expression she donned. It was the last day of summer before she returned to Hogwarts to make up her seventh year, and like the sun, she intended on making the most of the time.

After rescuing her parents, it had felt natural for Hermione to stay with them, though she had had made several visits throughout the summer to the Burrow, just like old times. Harry was residing back at Grimmauld Place again. According to his letters, he was in the midst of fixing it up, with the help of Kreacher (whom had been given the opportunity to leave and be free, but stayed, saying it was an eternal honor to serve the great Harry Potter, vanquisher of the Dark Lord.) Harry would not be returning to Hogwarts, nor Ron. While Hermione pored over textbooks, curled up in the familiar Gryffindor Common Room, her two best friends would be off completing the accelerated version of Auror training.

There came a soft rustle, and Hermione's eyes snapped open, pulled quite completely from her thoughts. A smallish owl alighted next to her, bearing a letter. Hermione recognized it immediately as the owl Harry used now, after the unfortunate death of Hedwig.

Hermione scanned the letter, feeling a smile twist at the corners of her mouth. It was a simple request for her to come to his place for dinner to celebrate her last night before school. She rushed into the house to find something to write with, Harry's owl fluttering after her.

After responding with a simple yes, Hermione tied the parchment back onto the owl's leg and watched as it flew off.

Up in her room, Hermione sifted through her closet, feeling an unexpected urge to look nice. After several minutes, she stepped back and eyed the mess she had made, feeling ridiculously girlish. Harry knew her through and through; perhaps it would be better to not dress up like someone she wasn't. However, after a moment of debating, she decided that using just a drop of the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, which had rested on her dresser untouched for quite awhile, couldn't hurt.

With a glance in the mirror, Hermione deemed herself ready. Her hair, with the help of the hair potion, rested tamely against her shoulders. She noticed, however, how startlingly different she looked now than how she had only two years ago. A small pale scar traced its way across the top of her right cheekbone, the product of a cutting curse she had received during the war of Hogwarts. The steely look in her eye confirmed she was no longer just a bushy-haired know-it-all. She was a woman, who had experienced more life in the last year than she ever could have in the depths of a book.

Hermione said her goodbyes to her parents before disapparating. The first thing she noticed, once the brief disorientation wore off from apparating, was that the narrow hallway that led off the front door was surprisingly cheery looking. The worn wallpaper was gone, along with all the portraits and heads of old house elves that had belonged to the Black family. A row of lights along the wall illuminated the surrounding area with their buttery-yellow glow. It seemed Harry had made good progress so far.

"Harry, I'm here!" Hermione called, moving towards the kitchen. As she neared, an acrid smell filled her nose. There came a loud clattering and the sound of someone swearing.

"Harry? Are you - ?"

Harry appeared suddenly in the doorway, blocking her from seeing in.

"Hermione. Er, hi. Wasn't expecting you so soon…" He gave an impish smile. His glasses were steamed over and there was a smudge of some sort of food on his shirt.

"Do you need any help in here?"

She slipped past Harry before he could stop her. She quickly realized where the smell was emanating from.

"You're cooking the Muggle way?" Hermione indicated towards the pots set on the stove, which were currently spouting great clouds of smoke.

"Er, tried to use a bit of magic, to speed things up, but," Harry began rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "Didn't quite work out, as you can see."

Hermione simply chuckled and pulled out her wand. With a wave, the smoke and strong smell vanished. However, she doubted she would be able to save whatever it was Harry had been trying to make. Either way, she still appreciated his attempt at romance.

"I think there's still some bread in the cupboard." Harry suggested.

And so the two ended up lounging near the fireplace, nibbling at their slightly stale pieces of toast.

"Ron said Lavender is going back to Hogwarts too."

Hermione looked away from the fire's orange flicking tongues to look at Harry. "In her state? Doesn't that seem a bit… risky?"

While Lavender Brown wasn't exactly a werewolf, she had acquired a nasty temper she couldn't control, and in the height of her rage, she almost seemed to develop the sharp predator eyes of a werewolf. Ron had stuck by her, though, swearing this time around their relationship wasn't all about snogging.

Harry shrugged. "I guess McGonagall is making a special allowance for her, seeing as she helped fight along with us and all."

They lapsed into silence for a moment, both consumed with their own thoughts. Harry finally broke it, saying, "Auror training will only take six months. After that, I think I'll buy a house. Somewhere in the country. I expect Sirius wouldn't have wanted me to live here the rest of my life." He looked around him. Though the house as a whole looked much better, it couldn't be denied that the sense of neglect still hung heavily in the air.

Harry brushed a piece of hair from Hermione's face. He looked nervous.

"And - and once you finish school, you can come live with me."

Hermione grinned. "Oh, Harry, I'd love to." She flung her arms around him.

It didn't seem so bad, leaving, after that. Harry would be waiting for her. This is what they had all been fighting for, all along. A chance to make silly plans over moving in with a significant other, to be able to savor the silence and know that their days were not numbered.

As Hermione kissed Harry goodnight much later on, she could almost see her future stretching out before her, a long and unbroken image. And at last she could step into it, and not worry for herself or her friends. It was a nice feeling.

**A/N: **Hello! Well this was kind of a pointless piece of fluff, wasn't it? Aw well, Hermione deserves it, right? I hope you guys liked it, or at least didn't hate it. Reviews would be lovely. I think it's not too impossible to get to one hundred reviews, right? I'm going to try to update this more often, promise. Hope you all are well. (:


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